


Afterlife

by gigaparsec



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/F, Love Letters, Post-Mockingjay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:29:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigaparsec/pseuds/gigaparsec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss writes a letter to Madge, years after the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterlife

Do you remember me, Madge?

Because I remember you.

This letter feels pointless, Madge. You probably won't be able to read this. No, I know you won’t be reading this. Not unless there’s some sort of crazy afterlife that you can look down on Earth from.Some sort of afterlife where you can see what I'm doing...one where you can watch over me.

Afterlife. Afterlife? A heaven, maybe. Do you remember that, Madge? Remember, when we were children, and we studied together in school? We were partners in Ancient History. You and I, Madge…we worked together in that class. As a matter of fact, we always ended up working together. We were the loner girls, the odd ones out, who partnered up with each other because no one else wanted us. Do you remember what they taught us about in that class? We studied the world before us. And the world before us had a lot of things. Wars, planes, countries...and religions. All those old religions? With their priests. Their idols. Gods. Goddesses. Sinning. Repentance. Forgiveness. Hell. Heaven. Afterlife.

In those lessons, they were always reminding us that those religions weren’t real. “Nothing more than fairy tales,” they said. And when we were in school – for most of my life, even - I believed that. I thought those “religions” were rubbish. I believed it so much that I even had a hard time thinking that anyone would ever believe in them...

But ever since the war...I’ve found myself reflecting on those lessons. I’m not necessarily sure that I think those religions were true, but I have dearly wanted them to be true. Maybe that's why our ancestors believed in them – because of the idea of the afterlife. I'd always had trouble understanding that before, but maybe the afterlife is what drew everyone to those religions. What happens after we die...is a puzzle – one we'll never be able to figure out for sure – but we can at the very least speculate about. Or hope for. I want there to be a heaven, a nirvana. I want there to be an afterlife. Not for me. God, after all I’ve done, the most likely place that I’ll end up in the next life is hell. Or reincarnated back into this awful world, which is probably on par with hell. But I want there to be a heaven. I want there to be a heaven for all those I have lost. For Cinna. For Finnick. For Rue. For Prim.

For you, Madge.

Yes, Madge, you. Do you think about me, in your afterlife? I mean...if there is one? I think about you. In fact, I think about you so much that sometimes it suprises me. Sometimes. If we're being honest here...most of the time, it doesn't. It really doesn't. After all, how could I think about anything else?

Madge...how do I tell you this? It feels like I've betrayed you. I’m with Peeta now. With - as in…..you know...we’re married. With children. Two. I named the girl after you. Madge Mellark-Everdeen. She has my hair. My complexion. But she has blue eyes.

Blue. Blue eyes. Not Peea's eyes. They look nothing like Peeta’s eyes. They’re not the pale blue of his. They’re a brighter, vibrant blue, the color of a sea a few hours after a storm, when the water is turning back to normal after lightning strikes. More than Peeta’s eyes, they remind me of your eyes. Your own bright blue eyes.

Do you know what, Madge? After the bombings, you were what brought me back to District Twelve. When I escaped from the Arena, when I was brought to District Thirteen, I insisted on going back to 12. I didn’t admit it to myself then, but I needed to search for you. To find you - or at least what remained of you. You, Madge.

It wasn’t until after the war I found out you were dead. I never saw what remained of you. It was destroyed. Destroyed in the bombings. You were turned to ash. You were crushed. Crushed just like I was. After I heard that, I wanted to run away. Not just from District Twelve. Maybe not even from Panem. Just far, far away from this life, and never come back, run off beyond the edge of the Earth to somewhere secret and safe and imaginary, where everyone I had once loved would be waiting for me. But I had to stay. I had to stay here. Something tied me down to District Twelve.

That thing was you. You tied me to Twelve.

Madge. Madge. Do you remember our schooldays? We were both the loners in class. We always ended up together in group assignments – because no one wanted either of us as partners. But you were so pretty, Madge. You were rich and blonde and perfect. You would have no problem finding friends, if you wanted them. You would have had more friends than anyone else in the school. It's always puzzled me – why, Madge? Why didn't you just leave me and go find other people?

The answer's started to dawn on me. You, Madge - you were different. I always knew that you were different, but in what way, I didn’t detect then. Were you...?

…were you different like me, Madge? It’s an improbable thought. It’s stupid. Wishful thinking. But did you…?

...did you feel the way that I feel today?

Madge?

Madge. I had to choose between Peeta and Gale, during the rebellion. I thought I loved them both. But I had to choose the one I couldn’t live without. Gale was the fire, Peeta was the dandelion. I choose Peeta. I needed Peeta’s dandelion.

Except Peeta’s dandelion wasn’t what I needed. I needed a different dandelion.

I needed you.

I needed your kindness. Your gentleness. Your gracefulness. Your quiet bravery. Your wisdom beyond your years. I needed the scent of strawberries. I needed piano lessons. I needed cheek kisses. I needed a mockingjay pin - a shining reminder of home. Of warmth. Of comfort. Of safety. Of family. Of you.

I needed you, Madge. You were the true dandelion. And you always will be.

Do you still think about me, Madge, in your afterlife? Because I think about you. I think about you every day. You have a page in the book. The book that Peeta and I made, after the rebellion, to honor the fallen ones. The ones that I loved. I never read that book. Not anymore. It makes me cry, and I hate crying. I’ve cried enough tears for a lifetime. But sometimes, when it’s rainy and cold, when I’m lonely, when I need someone, I take that book off of the shelf and I hug it close to my chest. I feel the soft leathery cover, play with the ends of the thin yellowing pages, and breathe in the smells of the life I lived alongside of you. That book takes me back. It lets me pretend that the girl who has had my heart all these years is with me. With me once again. With me...at last.

...I love you, Madge Undersee. It's embarrassing to write - painful to write - but it is the honest-to-god truth. Even though I didn’t admit it to myself when we were young, I loved you then. I loved you during the Games, even when I was kissing Peeta. I loved you during the rebellion. I loved you when you died. I love you now. I love you Madge, love love love you, and I will love you forever. I will love you until the day I die.

And you know what?

If there's is an afterlife, I’ll love you even then.


End file.
